


Winchester Cafe & Bakery

by lepetitsouris



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-04
Updated: 2015-02-05
Packaged: 2018-03-10 10:43:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3287327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lepetitsouris/pseuds/lepetitsouris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean questioned his life choices as he hurled his alarm clock across the room. It hit the cushion he had nailed to the wall and fell with a plop into his laundry basket. Time for him to start baking for the day. </p><p>Sam listened to his brother grumble through the walls before turning over and quickly falling back asleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dean questioned his life choices as he hurled his alarm clock across the room. It hit the cushion he had nailed to the wall and fell with a plop into his laundry basket. Time for him to start baking for the day.

Sam listened to his brother grumble through the walls before turning over and quickly falling back asleep.

Dean stumbled down the stairs catching himself before he broke his neck. He thanked whatever powers that be that his daily commute took less than a minute before face planting next to the coffee machine waiting for the last couple drops to finish falling. Scalding his tongue and the roof of his mouth, he finished the first dosage of coffee in two long gulps and then poured himself another. He thanked his mother for the organizational skills that she had ingrained in him and his father for the need for preparation that he drilled into him. He pulled out the cookie sheet full of cookies ready to bake out of the fridge and set the ovens to preheat. He took the butter that he had weighed and set out the night before to the mixer to get whipped and prepped for the sugar, eggs and dry ingredients. He hugged his mixer so that it would know that he appreciated how much it made his life easier before turning it on. While everything was coming together he took a quick peek at the front to make sure that the display cases were ready for his sugary delights. As soon as the batter came together he turned off the mixer and switched the first bowl with another for his second batter. While the second batter came together, he checked the cooler to make sure he had enough cakes for the day and realized that little mice that were also known as the night staff had indulged themselves in an extra cake. He groaned and recalculated the cakes that he had for the day. He turned back to the kitchen and carefully poured his cheesy muffin batter into the tin and popped them in the oven. He turned off the mixer and replaced the batter with butter to be whipped into frosting. He sneaked a taste of the apple cinnamon muffin batter and smiled with reminiscence of his mother’s apple pie. Shaking himself out of his memories, he quickly portioned out the batter and popped it into the oven as well. It seemed that today would be a good day.

Today was not a good day. Castiel had found out that his uncle was contesting his claim of his inheritance. All he wanted to do was mourn his father but his relatives were making it rather difficult. His uncle didn’t even want his father’s inheritance. Castiel knew that his uncle was just jealous of Castiel’s successful career as a writer. He remembered his father supporting his uncle in his writing. He also remembered his mother cutting his uncle’s funding while father was away. Metatron did not have a talent for writing. What he did have a talent in was manipulation. Castiel could still remember Metatron screeching at his mother that she was a cold hearted bitch and would get what was coming for her. She had in a way. She had been mugged on her way home and was left for dead in an alley. They caught her mugger. He had been a fanatic follower of his uncle’s blog and blamed her for Metatron’s lack of recognition. Now Castiel had been summoned by his father’s lawyer to be told that Metatron claims that there is a hidden will that his father had left in Metatron’s care. Castiel just wanted to get away from it all and had decided that it would be a great idea to go for a drive. A drive that came to a sudden stop when his vintage car refused to go in a little town that did not even have a Starbucks. What the town did have was a town hall that looked like it was built when George Washington was president.

“Ma’am?” Castiel cautiously approached the receptionist who appeared to have been employed at the town hall when George Washington was president.

She peered at him over her spectacles, “yes, How can I help you?”

Unsure whether she could help him or note he persevered, “I was wondering if you could tell me where I am and if you could call someone to tow my car to the nearest mechanic.”

“Oh, honey. I’m sorry but the closest garage is a good hour’s drive away. The closest thing to a mechanic we have is Dean and he’s sure to be asleep at this hour. You’ll have to check his shop.”

“His shop?”

“Ops, sorry, I forgot that you’re not from around here, Just follow your nose. It’s just down the street.” She then turned back to her book dismissing him without really helping him.

Castiel ran his fingers through his hair in frustration as he stepped out. There really was just one big street that seemed to run through town and it was the highway. Just then, something sweet and just the right amount of spicy made his mouth fill up with spit. It smelled delicious. This must have been what she meant when she said to follow his nose. He followed his nose to Winchester Cafe & Bakery.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter goes into the back story of the cafe bakery.  
> I'm sorry if the story line jumps around, I'm putting this down as it comes to me.

Dean was sure that Sam was wasting his time in the boondocks when he should be off saving the world with his law degree from UCSF. Sam ignored him and continued to run his law office out of the cafe backroom while serving as a part time barista. He claimed that he did a lot of online work, and Dean had to acknowledge that Sam spent a lot of time on the computer but Dean had his suspicions that it had more to do with the box of tissues that sat next to his monitor. Dean might not be the sharpest tool in the shed but he knew his brother. Whenever Dean made any insinuations to what he knew to be true Sam would magically transform into a ripe tomato and make offended little huffs as he went about his day. It was mildly amusing and Dean made sure to utilize this fact every time Sam became sanctimonious. 

“Dean, Mrs Greenly is here to pick up the pastries for her book club.”

“There is no book club, Sam. It’s a cover for her witch’s coven.” Dean snarked as he checked the boxes one last time before handing them off to Sam.

Sam gave him a greatly disapproving look that he totally did not deserve, Dean was the older brother after all. But before he could open his mouth, “Dean Winchester, you better thank the heavens that you bake better than I do because if you didn’t I would have run you out of town the first time you opened you sassy mouth.”

Dean flinched and started to flee back to the kitchen. He still got smacked in the back of the head.

“Sam, I’m expecting you to give me the usual discount for putting up with your brother’s sass,” Mrs Greenly stated as she pulled out her wallet.

“Sam, don’t fall for her witchly wiles! She knows the price we set up when she put in the order, and she knew what she was getting into when she stepped into here!” Dean cried out from the back.

Sam ignored his brother’s silliness as he was wont to do and gave Mrs Greenly her usual discount and told her that he hoped that her book club, which was more like an after-school program for the local kids, went well. He listened to his brother huff and grumble in the back. Dean had wanted to provide the baked goods for free but Mrs Greenly could be quite scary and she never accepted anything she perceived as charity.

Being the only cafe in the town was good for business. Somehow after being dragged cross country by their father, Dean had decided to settle in a small college town with ordinances against franchises. The building that Dean bought for a pittance originally housed a Subway that had only been there because the townspeople hadn’t realized it was a franchise. There had been a small fire in the kitchen and the building had been declared structurally unsound. Dean had wandered into town after dropping off Sam at Stanford and bought and fixed up the building. He had been hiding there when received a call from the authorities informing him that their father’s body had been found in an abandoned mine shaft. They continued on and told him that they suspected that he had been caught in a winter storm and had taken shelter in the mine and then had gotten snowed in. They told him that John probably had just fallen asleep and just had not woken up. They told him that it was probably a peaceful death. Then they asked him what he wanted to do with the body. Dean shakily told them that he’d call them back and numbly jotted down the number onto some scrap paper. He stared numbly at the numbers as the world swirled around him. Charlie, a girl going to the local college that he had hired to help out, took careful hold of his elbow and guided him into a chair and stole his phone. She had heard that Dean had an estranged brother and knew that Dean spent hours staring broodily at his phone. She found “Sammy” in his contacts and pressed call. It felt like it rang for such a long time and she feared that “Sammy” had changed his number. Right before it rang for fifth time, “Sammy” picked up. He sounded confused, hopeful and fearful when he answered and when he only heard Charlie’s voice his voice became confused hopeful fearful and disappointed. Charlie told him what had happened to his father and his next question was about Dean. Dean realized what Charlie was doing just then and surged out of the chair scrambling for his phone. Charlie handed the phone over and tried to eavesdrop on the soft conversation between Dean and his brother. “Sammy” or Sam as he preferred to be called visited soon after and stared in wonder and the bakery cafe. Dean huffed and grumbled at his brother’s wonder and presented him with “Momma’s Pie”. They went together to get their father’s body cremated and sprinkle his ashes over their mother’s grave. Dean paid an engraver to add his father’s name to Mary’s marker. Dean sent Sam back to college, which was law school now, with a promise to keep in contact which he only kept because somehow Charlie and Sam had become friends. 

Sam had come straight to Dean after graduating. He had actually already passed the bar for Maine because he had been plotting to live with Dean as soon as he found out where Dean was. Dean protested and made a lot of noise about Sam wasting his credentials as he got Sam’s room ready. He made a lot more noise when he found out about all the offers that Sam turned down to come live with him. Despite him, Sam settled in quite well in the town and took a part time job lecturing at the local college, which was actually a quite prestigious liberal arts university but Dean did his best to ignore it. Now Sam lawyered out of the cafe backroom which was where Dean used to sleep when he couldn’t be bothered to drag himself up the stairs. 

“Dean, you need to order more beans, we’re running low on the dark and blonde roasts.”

Dean poked his head out of the back and blinked owlishly at him. “Sam?”

That was not a tone that he wanted to hear out of Dean’s mouth. It was his “getting creative” tone and usually ended up with great success or great disaster. Sam turned back with a frown already forming on his face.

“Do you remember talking about roasting our own beans?”

“No, I do not,” Sam’s frown was slowly transforming into a classic bitch face, “did we have this conversation while I was present?”

“yyyy——eee—-sss,” the drawn out answer did not make Sam happy, “you were technically present.”

“Technically?”

“It may have been the night that Charlie through her ‘I’m rich, bitches’ party.”

“The party where I got drunk out of my mind?”

“Maybe, you said that it was a great idea.”

“I did,” one of Sam’s eyebrows slowly but steadily approached his hairline, “did I.”

“Yes, you did,” Dean claimed all the while doing all he can to not meet Sam’s gaze that was slowly burning a hole into his face, “so I ordered a coffee roaster.”

Sam let out a gust of air that made all the receipts flutter, “just how much was this roaster and where are you going to get the raw beans?”

“I got a deal, Sammy,” Dean had the gall to act affronted, “you remember Benny, don’t you?”

Benny, who Sam did not approve of, was someone that Dean had befriended while traveling with his father one summer Sammy had been abandoned with a family friend. Benny, in Sam’s eyes, was a suspicious character who supposedly owned a strangely popular diner somewhere in the south. Every so often, Dean would bring some sort of restaurant equipment that he had got cheaply off of Benny. Not all of Dean’s brilliant innovations were successful. Sam was deeply suspicious.

Just as Sam opened his mouth to berate Dean, the bell on the door twinkled.

“Excuse me?” a rumpled stranger in a tan trench coat walked in, “I was told that someone here could help me.”


End file.
